


Sinking Sand

by Redwinged



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:44:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5094560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redwinged/pseuds/Redwinged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is a lost ship, and she his port in the storm. <br/>Inspired by Red Dawn with shades of Red Velvet Cupcakes. Very short.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sinking Sand

**Sinking Sand**

He is a lost ship, and she his port in the storm.

It has been that way since the beginning. A dubious look, incredulity sketched across her features. Pert nose and a mouth that quirks in a way that makes him think she is suppressing laughter at some private, wicked joke. Tiny woman with strong, towering men at her command. And capable. He sees that from the moment she first approaches him, face a carefully schooled mask of detached pleasantness, uncertainty peeking through the chinks. He, broken, lost, searching for something to catch hold of. Something to keep him moored, keep him from drifting away into the madness of his intolerable grief. A few sharp words in a moment of frustration, an order - no, a challenge ("come back tomorrow"), an observation from a sharp tongue ("homeless vibe", she accuses) and finally a request, unexpected and startling and he pulls himself away from Red John before he has quite begun. And he has found it, found her. His purpose, his direction, grabs hold with both hands and clings to her, tows himself, soaked and shaking and gasping for air, up onto dry land.

Still, it is like this. She his rudder, his anchor, the only thing that rivals his thirst for vengeance. The only thing that can tear him from his brooding, from his quest with three simple words, "I need you." His answer is equally simple; four words. Quietly, he peels off his battered armor and bares himself to her. "Anything for you, Lisbon."

He is a lost ship, and she his port in the storm.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm new here and in the process of transferring my older works here from elsewhere, including this one. Thanks for reading! Feedback is always welcome and appreciated. 
> 
> The title is a nod to The Other Side by David Gray.


End file.
